Wolfen
by ShinyGreenApple
Summary: Barbossa confronts Elizabeth with a request and summons something dark that dwells within her. Seduction ensues.


_**Wolfen**_

_**Disclaimer: **_I don't want to own this. I want Barbossa to own _me_. Yes, I really do.

**A/N: **Based loosely on the E Nomine song _Das Tier In Mir_. Slightly predatory. Beware, I have summoned up Seductive!Barbossa. Bwahaha . . .

-

"Why not?"

_My desire is kindled and the hunter in me awakens . . ._

It was no less than the third time he had asked her that day; she grew weary of his persistence. She sighed, running a hand over her brow.

"Captain, as I said before, because I don't feel that I have anything to thank you for except the most nerve-racking few days of my life. And this!" She showed him the palm of her hand and the raised flesh of the white scar that he had left on it. He merely shrugged.

"Somethin' to remember me by, if nothing else. Coulda put it right there," he ran his finger across her throat in a slicing motion, only smiling at the way she pushed his hand aside in disgust. "But as I said," he continued, "waste not. And I'm glad for that even now. 'Twould have been a shame."

She had turned her back to him, but was still keenly aware that his gaze burned upon every inch of her physical being, and had no doubt she was the subject of some lewd and scandalous fancy taking place in his twisted mind.

"Stare all you like, Captain, because that's all the pleasure you'll receive from me, that's for certain." Her tone was haughty and arrogant; qualities that he found to be terribly charming, at least from her. She had to stop and examine the motive behind her words; permitting him to stare and even lumping the word 'pleasure' into her remark might not have been the wisest way to divert his thoughts from where they currently dwelt, and yet something dark within her had goaded her to say just that, to encourage those thoughts, if only with subtle hints.

"One little token of your gratitude, a peck o' the lips, that's all a lonely sailor asks of you."

"And why should I, pray tell?"

He shrugged again, in his annoyingly flippant manner. "No reason. You didn't seem to need a reason for kissing Sparrow, now, did ye?" She paled, her mouth dropping open.

"What on earth makes you think that I - "

"Our eyes often betray us, Miss Swann," he answered with a cunning smile. "And yours speak volumes." She could only stare coldly at him now; it was as if he knew more about her than she did herself and it was a rather unnerving notion. The look he fixed upon her now seemed to bore further into her inner thoughts more than ever, causing her to feel more than a bit caged in and at an impasse. She stood such as the moments dragged by, thick with awkwardness, her breathing shaky and unsteady, though she tried to conceal it. She felt not much different now that she would have had she been if she were being preyed upon by a wild animal, but like such, was too intrigued by her own fascination to flee from the predator. She found herself instead turning slowly to face him; she had made up her mind, but was no less uncertain about the decision that she had reached.

"Captain," she began tentatively.

"Yes?" His tone had more than a hint of sauciness about it as he turned to meet her gaze with a smirk.

"If I do this, _just _once, do I have your word that you won't be making anymore indecent requests of me?"

_Dark clouds and dark thoughts . . . can you sense my desire?_

His smirk turned to a wide smile and he extended his hand. She took it in her own with some amount of trepidation, loathing the way her stomach tightened at touch of his rough palm against her own, and the way he grasped her hand so firmly upon their agreement, refusing to let go when she pulled back. She was clearly going nowhere before holding up her end of their deal. Swallowing hard and willing her anxiety to go with it, she closed the space between them, wondering idly how many more captains would need kissing for her to achieve her own ends. He was being oddly patient with her, it seemed he wanted most for her to give in to him in lieu of recklessly taking things for himself, as was his regular habit. Slowly, somewhat reluctantly, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. Perhaps expecting and preparing herself for the worst had been a mistake; as much as she tried to convince herself that her current behavior was nothing short of wrong on very many levels, as much as she told herself that he was lecherous and disgusting, she could not deny that she was altogether taken aback by the experience. For all his self-serving and gratuitous mannerisms, the captain was, at least at the moment, exceptionally generous when it came to physical affections, and she found herself reluctant to end the encounter quickly as she had first intended. She chose instead to linger, knowing she'd already had too much but still wanting for more. He took it as a sign to let his hands creep down to just below her waist; furtively pulling her a bit closer and against him. He had an odd way about him; gentle and passionate, a bit like Will, confident and sensuous like Jack, and yet altogether unlike anyone she had ever known before. She could have been cautious, used her common sense, given in to the part of her that screamed in protest that what she was doing was completely unethical; rather she was taken by the moment, letting her previously unoccupied arms snake around him tightly, one hand creeping up the back of his neck and twining its fingers into his hair, toying with the plait he wore in it.

The person to whom she lied the most was the same one that stared back at her from the mirror every morning, and with no sincerity whatsoever, she now told that very person that this was not what she had secretly longed for upon first setting eyes on the cunning old sailor. That she would put an end to this immediately, after one last kiss. One that she had not encouraged him to deepen by parting her mouth ever-so-slightly and running her tongue softly over his lips; a gesture that he had seen coming from the time she had so easily made herself at home at his table. She had shown herself to be easily convinced and even then he had begun plotting his ensnarement; there would be no exertion of forcefulness with Hector Barbossa. He saw nothing thrilling in the dominance of a woman by physical strength, as there was much more to be had in the dominance of her want and will. Not that there had not been motives behind the desire to work such charm on one Elizabeth Turner, as she called herself; it had been her father (or so he thought) who had caused this torment, and Barbossa saw no greater revenge than to have his issue willingly give herself over to the man that had sent him to the depths.

A plot never realized, thanks to the deception of the governor's daughter, but it was of no great consequence now. She held more promise than petty vengeance; there was something undeniably wild and untamable about her, a quality that he had every intention of exploring to the fullest. He smiled now to see her already weakening in his embrace, hating herself for enjoying the encounter and loving herself for allowing it to happen. He did not ask for her consent, and she did not resist when his hands traveled to her backside, and though neither of them had voiced a desire to head for his cabin, they stood before the door. She stretched out a shaking hand and it found the knob; the door was all too willing to open. A few steps backward, encouraged by a pair of commanding hands on her shoulders and his confident, resolute stride and the door closed behind them, leaving them to regard one another in heavy silence. It made her all too aware of her surroundings; the air seemed cooler, the boards beneath them more hard and rough when tread upon, his resolute gaze all the more welcoming. His eyes held question and warned her not to trifle with him; he awaited her answer to a silently offered accord. She came closer, her steps hesitant and somewhat shy. Delicate hands crept beneath his shirt and stretched over tanned and sweaty skin as she met his eyes once more and lazily dragged her lips across his own. He pulled away, smiling; she was unsurprised to find that his hand once again rested on her waist, the other occupied with lightly stroking her back in a way that made her want to lean into him, unable now to trust her own knees.

"You exceeded your promise long ago, Miss Swann." The husky tone of his voice caused primitive, raw feelings stir within her that were unknown, yet strangely familiar.

"I could leave now," she answered with attempted defiance. The only reply she received was the question returning to his eyes; it dared her now to give in to what both of them desired from the other.

'_To act on selfish impulse.' _

The words rang in her mind and she pushed back the guilt that threatened to come with them, and perhaps bristling in irritation over the plain fact that Jack had been right about her. This was not how she had been raised; despite all her inclinations for sailing and the unquenchable thirst for tales of piracy, she had been forced to comply to the expectations of 'civilized' society all her life, only to find that society no less barbaric than the criminals they discouraged her from fixating on. Her beliefs towards it had been affirmed when it took such a great amount of convincing to turn back for Will; when despite the willingness to cooperate he had displayed, a noose was slipped round the neck of Jack Sparrow. She could not help but let a wry smile curl onto her lips at the idea of what that world might think of her now, standing breathless in the arms of a notorious pirate captain, mere feet away from his bed. The laces of that former life had been severed, like a corset tied too tightly, and the relief was just as welcome.

She had the unfortunate tendency to wear her thoughts on her face, none of which had gone unnoticed by the Captain. "You're at liberty to depart at anytime, Miss, though I have to be honest with ye, I'd be sorry for it." He had whispered the words with a smirk, close enough to her ear that she felt hot breath tripping briskly over her face. She bent her head down in an attempt to hide the smile that refused to be pent up any longer. After a moment she pulled back, the giddy smile replaced with a salacious one much like his own.

"I'd very much hate to upset your fragile emotions, Captain."

He laughed deeply, shamelessly pulling their lower halves together. "I'm ecstatic you're so concerned with my well-being, Milady."

She cocked her head at him, sliding one hand from beneath his shirt to reach up and lift that damn superfluous feathered hat from his head and curl her arm round his neck. "Just _how _ecstatic?"

"Now that depends entirely on just how concerned _you _are, Dove."

Unsure of whether to be infuriated or flustered that he had started giving her pet names, she could only stand staring at him with uneven breaths; after half a moment's consideration, she threw all caution aside, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing her body against his. He responded with a lusty smile and a deep growl as he maneuvered her ever closer to the bed residing in the corner, stopping when she was backed against it. His hands went to the laces of her shirt, only teasing at them as if he were unsure whether he would loosen them or not.

"Oh . . . oh Captain, please", she pleaded breathlessly, hastily attempting to assist him with the task. He snatched her hands, looking her in the eye with a wicked smile.

"Why should I?" he taunted. She swallowed and brought her eyes to steadily meet his own.

"You shouldn't", was her whispered reply.

He smiled darkly.

_I would gladly devour you . . ._

**Finis**


End file.
